


Ferris Wheel

by bokhootou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drabble, I was trying something and I thought I'd post it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokhootou/pseuds/bokhootou
Summary: There’s only so long he can smile at the view when he knows they’ll be plummeting towards the ground in a while. There’s only so long they can treat a chronic issue with only painkillers. Only so long before he decides to pull the lever and finally get off the dizzying, repetitive ride.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Ferris Wheel

Their relationship feels like riding a Ferris wheel; moments of fleeting euphoria at its peak, lasting for a few seconds before their vision blurs and they’re back at its bottom again. A self-operating Ferris wheel, if such a thing exists — something that gives both of them the choice to pull a lever, stop the ride and leave. Every time they touch the bottom Kiyoomi wonders if it’s time to pull the lever and not look back, but every time as the wheel starts turning again he chooses to stay, they choose to keep moving. 

Or at least, Atsumu chooses to keep moving. Sweet Atsumu, impatient Atsumu, everything-is okay Atsumu who tries to treat deep gashes with bandages and push past any argument they have with flimsy solutions. He’s eager to show everyone that everything is okay, eager to reach the top again, eager to excitedly point at the gorgeous view while ignoring that at some point they’ll be back where they began, arguing over the same issues and stubbornly ignoring the real reasons behind all of them. 

Kiyoomi is tired. There’s only so long he can smile at the view when he knows they’ll be plummeting towards the ground in a while. There’s only so long they can treat a chronic issue with only painkillers. Only so long before he decides to pull the lever and finally get off the dizzying, repetitive ride. 

Kiyoomi remembered the exact second he did it. He remembers laying in bed, back towards Atsumu after another ugly disagreement. Every moment is impossibly vivid — from the persistent ticking of their wall clock to the irregular drip of the faucet; from the stream of light through a gap in their curtains to the oddly shaped silhouette of their laundry bag in the corner — every inch of the rooms begs for his attention and he gives it all. He focuses on anything and everything that lets him ignore the muffled sniffles of his boyfriend next to him.

He wonders for a moment if he should offer the bandage again. He wonders if he should wipe his tears, press soft kisses on his forehead and promise that they’ll figure it out. He wonders if repeating a lie enough times will make the liar believe it too. 

Then he wonders if it’s worth it. 

After months of playing into the fantasy that they’ll reach a compromise, months of keeping up with Atsumu’s facade of being a happy couple, months of circling the same point, again and again, Kiyoomi is exhausted. When he finally decides to pull the lever, he wishes he felt anger or regret or guilt, or any emotion other than the relief that surged through him. 

That night, Kiyoomi listens to his boyfriend pour his soul into a pillowcase, listens to his walls collapse and leave him shivering on the bed, listens to pathetic attempts to level his breathing and relax. That night, Kiyoomi chooses to turn his back towards him and sleep. 

Come morning, the sheets beside him are cold and empty. He finds Atsumu in the kitchen with two mugs of coffee and a bright smile that didn’t quite reach his swollen eyes. His chattering is light and carefree yet tinged with sadness as if he was seeing the view from the Ferris wheel for the last time. His smile contains a thousand words he wants to say but most importantly a plea; a prayer to play along for a few moments of pretend euphoria before the topic became inevitable. 

_One last morning with you_ , his eyes say. Kiyoomi sighs and pulls up a chair, returning a grateful smile that Atsumu had understood what was coming. 

_One final morning_ , he agrees silently.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :)


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